Wanda Maximoff has Daddy Issues
by forever-a-thief
Summary: Part Two of Peter Maximoff has Daddy Issues. Wanda reunites with Peter and meets her father. How do you think that works out?


The kids all go to live at the Westchester school, but Erik finds out and thinks that Sarah shouldn't be allowed in because she's human, and shows his disdain of her. Sarah takes it all in stride, showing her hatred of him right back, and eventually it comes out that Sarah has been a mutant the whole time, but was hiding the fact because she saw how her mother treated her siblings and wanted to protect herself. When something happens and she has to use her powers (perfect memory, slight telepathy because she can block out other telepaths if she wants to) to save her brother or sister, Erik feels like a fucking jackass. Lorna comes in at the end of the story to set up her installment.

The first inkling Wanda had that things were not altogether fine at home was the fact that every time she asked her mom to put Peter on the line, she made up increasingly pathetic lies about why he couldn't come to the phone right then.

"He's not home yet... I sent him to the store... he's studying... he doesn't have time...," and it was that last one that had her borrowing her roommate's car and driving the two hours home in a frantic, worried mess. Even if Peter was _dying_ , he would still have time to talk to her. He would walk through fire or rip off his own fingernails just to see her, to talk to her. She felt the same way. It was a twin thing, she was sure.

She hadn't gotten much news from her mother in the last few months. The school year was almost finished, she only had her finals left, so while the unexpected road trip wasn't sprung on her at the best time, she could spare a few hours to figure out what the hell was happening.

When she stormed through the door, she found her baby sister sitting on the floor in front of the TV, her pink princess gown placed haphazardly over her regular clothing. Sarah gave her a wide smile, teeth missing here and there. Wanda beamed back; it had been months since she had seen little Sarah.

"Well don't just sit there, come give me a hug!" Wanda demanded, dropping her bag and holding her arms out. Sarah needed no more prodding, jumping up to flounce into her big sister's arms.

"Thank heavens you're here, Wanda! It hasn't been the same since Peter left," she bemoaned, her wide eyes pouty and sad.

"He _what_? Why?"

Before Sarah could answer their mother came into the room, looking far more worn and tired than Wanda remembered her ever being. Deep bags tugged beneath her eyes, and it seemed that she had taken up smoking again, because she was tapping a carton against her thigh. When she saw Wanda standing in the living room, Sarah attached to her hip, her eyes widened in shock.

"Wanda! What are you doing here? Don't you have tests this week?" The stern look Wanda more easily recognized filled her mother's eyes then. "Young lady, what do you think you're doing here?!"

"I came to figure out why Peter isn't here. Where'd he go? He wouldn't have skipped town without telling me; he always tells me everything," Wanda insisted, dropping her hold on her sister to crowd in on her mother. She could feel her uncontrolled power leaking through the hastily built walls she had caging it in in her mind. It always seemed to break free when she was emotional, though.

Her eyes were glowing with a red luminescence, and she saw it reflected in her mother's fear-filled eyes. She didn't want to scare her mother, but she couldn't help it. She would never use her power against her, but Wanda knew that argument was a losing battle, as her mother would never believe her.

"Where is Peter, Mom?"

Her mother bit her lip, closed her eyes, and then she started moving in a flurry. She shut the blinds on all of the windows, locked the front door, and checked around the room for any planted bugs. Though really she just looked ridiculous, scraping through the potted plant in the corner, behind the books on the bookcase, through the cupboards in the kitchen. Finally, she pulled Wanda close and buried her face in her daughter's long hair.

"He did something stupid, baby. Something _really_ stupid. You remember a few months back, when they had that whole scare with that mutant that threatened the President on TV?" She felt Wanda's nod, and continued on. "Well a few days before that, a few men came for Peter. I didn't know what they wanted until he told me a few days later, when all that happened on TV. Peter was the one who broke that man out of prison." Wanda gasped and pulled away, looking into her mother's eyes and praying that what she had said had not been true. Peter could be stupid, but she had never thought that he could be _that_ stupid.

"And, what? He told you and you kicked him out, just like that?" she spit out acidicly, glaring at her mother. Oh, Wanda knew that their powers had drilled a wedge between them and their mother from a young age, and she knew they scared her often, but Wanda still had that little girl inside her that believed her mother would love her, stand by her no matter what.

"Of course I didn't," her mother replied, looking both guilty and angry at the same time. "Things were frosty for a bit, because I couldn't believe what he had done, but nothing came of it until we started getting the phone calls."

Wanda's heart stopped then. All the years of her mother hating phones, being suspicious of strangers, of everyone really; years and years and _years_ of watching her mother's suspicion of the entire world had had their effect on her, as well. The first thing she could think was that men in black suits in nondescript vehicles from lettered, unheardof agencies had swooped in and stolen her brother, her _twin_ away and her mother hadn't even _called_ her.

"No. He's alright. He's fine, right? I would've known, I would've _felt_ something if he was in trouble! I would _know_!" Wanda screeched, fear clawing at her insides as she tried to frantically remember feeling off at all in the last few weeks, but she came up blank.

"I don't know," her mother admitted, shamefaced. "I told him it wasn't safe for him to be here. He left the same night. I don't know where he went; I haven't gotten any calls, or letters."

Wanda rolled her eyes at that. "Why would he contact you?" she said viciously. "You're the one who told him it wasn't safe for him here, _told_ him to leave." Her hands raked through her long hair as she tried to think. "Where would he go? _Where is he_?"

Peter flinched, an aching burn starting from his scalp and intruding further into his brain.

"What the hell was that?" he grumbled, and then he suddenly remembered.

"Wanda," he breathed, before turning and running back into the school.

"Wanda, calm down. I don't know where he's gone, but I'm sure he'll send us something eventually."

Wanda just glared, before swooping down to tug Sarah behind her as she stomped up the stairs.

Once the sisters were confined behind Wanda's door, she turned on Sarah. "Do you know anything? Anything about where Peter might have gone? Please, sis?"

Sarah's face scrunched up in deep thought for a long time, before her smile brightened her face. "I think he might have gone to a school. I was going through his wallet after he came back from the trip with those weird men, and he had this crumpled, white business card. It said it was the 'Xavier Institute for Outstanding Youngsters'," Sarah recited back, beaming up at her sister.

"Do you remember the address, honey?"

"Westchester, New York." Her face scrunched up again. "Is that far away? What if Peter never made it there?" she asked, squirming in fear for her older brother.

"Don't worry, baby. I'm going to go pay a visit to this school, see if they've ever seen Peter. Here's hoping, right?" she said with a grin, wrapping her arms around her little sister.

"Can't you go in the morning? I don't want you to leave so soon," Sarah whined, tugging on Wanda's arm. With a put-upon sigh, Wanda nodded, smiling weakly.

"I'm sure Peter can wait one day for me to catch up with him. He's been gone for weeks already. I'm sure he's fine; he always takes care of himself."

Sarah agreed, smiling contentedly that she had gotten her way. "Can you stay with me tonight?" she pleaded, and Wanda couldn't bring herself to say no.

"Oh, alright. It's time to spoil the baby, isn't it?"

Sarah nodded self-importantly. She knew, just _knew_ that here was where her sister needed to be. If she left now, she'd miss something important.

When Wanda woke the next morning to pounding on the front door, her mind instantly went back to her fears from the night before. With a quick check on her sister, Wanda padded downstairs and peeked onto the front step. She saw a young man in a wheelchair, and another young man that was tall and gangly.

They didn't look like super-secret kidnapper agents, but she knew that appearances could be deceiving. Before she could step off the stairs, her sister's hand wrapped up in her own. She looked down in surprise, but Sarah was smiling, humming quietly.

"It's alright," Sarah told her. "They're here to take us to Peter. Promise," she grinned, crossing her heart with her free hand.

Trusting her sister's intuition, Wanda opened the door, Sarah at her side. "And you would be?" she asked, her eyes narrowed suspiciously, an arm wrapping around Sarah's shoulders protectively.

The man in the wheelchair smiled up at her calmly, his fingers brushing against his right temple before he spoke. "Hello, Wanda, Sarah. Pietro asked us to come by and explain things, as he cannot be here himself."

Wanda blanched, and hurried the men inside, before anyone else saw or heard them. Once they were inside the dingy living room, Wanda stood in front of them, arms crossed and glaring. Sarah was grinning like a loon on the arm of a chair, a complete juxtaposition from her older sister's stormy visage.

"Where is my brother?" Wanda growled. She could already feel her magic sparking around her, though she tried to reign it in around these strangers.

"He is at my home. It used to be a school before they began drafting for the war. Now that that's over, we've decided to open it up once more. Your brother is our first student." He eyed Wanda and Sarah a moment before stating, "You two would make wonderful additions, as well. I understand you attend college now, Wanda, with wonderful grades. And little Sarah, I've heard grand tales about your wonderful personality, as well."

Sarah beamed at the man in the chair and Wanda softened slightly at that. If they could all be together again, that would be her dream come true.

"I have finals next week. Once I'm done with that, we'll come and check out your... school." Her face screwed up in a mixture of amusement and pity. "To tell you the truth, I feel sorry for you if you're trying to teach Peter anything. My desk was right next to his for twelve years of schooling, and do you think he could pass even half his classes? He wasn't even paying enough attention to copy my papers, not that I would have let him."

"Peter is okay, though. Right?" Sarah asked timidly, playing with her long, stringy hair. Hank caught her eyes and smiled calmly, nodding.

"He's a very good student when you can keep his attention. He likes to help me in my lab every now and then. I think he's exceptionally content with us," Hank explained.

Wanda was surprised. Usually Peter didn't like strangers, _or_ adults, _or_ doctors. If he was doing as well as they said he was, then perhaps this school really was the best place for them all.

"And do I not get a say in any of this?" their mother asked waspishly from the doorway, dark bags under her eyes and a wine glass in her hand. "I've put up with all of Peter's scatterbrained plots all these years, but Wanda, you've got everything going for you out at school. And Sarah is my baby, I'm not letting her out of my sight."

"Mrs. Maximoff," the professor tried, but she wasn't having any of him.

"No. I let Peter go off on his own because I couldn't do anything for him. I'm glad that he's safe and happy with you at your school, but I want my girls here with me. If they all up and disappear and leave me here alone, what will that look like to the feds who are scoping this place out every day?" she demanded.

"You would simply spread word that your daughters are going to a new school. To get away from D.C., or something else. There are a million and one reasons and you have every right to transfer your children," Hank explained.

Mrs. Maximoff did not seem swayed. "Wanda is going to finish this semester, do phenomenal on her exams, and then she is going to come home. We are not going anywhere near your school. I thank you for looking after Peter while I can't, but I can't allow my girls to go haring off like he does. Especially Sarah; she's only eight."

Wanda glared at her mother while Sarah wilted in her chair. Wanda turned to their guests and said, "You'd best leave for now. When she gets like this, there's no getting through to her. When I finish this semester, Sarah and I will take a trip to your school." Her glare returned to her mother, who was fuming in the doorway. "Take care of Peter until then, please."

The Professor and the doctor nodded, and soon they were through the door and back on their way towards New York. Wanda and Sarah remained with their mother, anger and resentment filling the air as Magda drained her wine glass with a glare.

"Well?" Peter asked, bouncing in the doorway. When he didn't see any sign of his sisters, he visibly deflated.

"Your mother refused to let them come." When Peter's shoulders slumped further at that, Hank continued. "But Wanda said that once her finals were finished with, she and Sarah would be here within days." Peter smiled happily, back to his energetic, bouncing self.

"Now, would you care to explain just why you didn't tell us you had sisters?" Charles asked, an eyebrow raised and voice laced with disappointment.

That sent Peter's mood crumbling once more.

Wanda rushed through her exams, more worried about getting to her brother than anything on the papers in front of her. She couldn't borrow her roommate's car this time around, but there was a bus going from the college to her home town, and she just barely caught it after her final exam.

She was jittery as she sat in her seat for two whole hours, planning out her summer as best she could. She would get home, gather up Sarah and their luggage, and head out to Westchester to reunite with her twin as soon as possible. From there, she had no clue what they were going to do. She wasn't even sure if she was going to return to her school or not after this summer.

When she opened the door, she was greeted with her mother sprawled across her favorite chair, glare fixed on the front door. Sarah was nowhere to be seen, but she could hear her moving around upstairs. Wanda walked in, ready for a fight, but was oddly surprised when her mother gave her one look and threw her car keys at her.

"If you really want to go so bad, go ahead. Just, keep a good eye on your sister. And," she paused, biting her lip, a defeated look entering her face as she rubbed a hand through her hair, "make sure Peter's actually as happy there as those men made it sound. Okay, hon?"

Wanda was touched. Their mother had constantly kept her and Peter at arm's length from the moment their powers had started showing. That she was showing even this small amount of worry over her oldest child was shocking in and of itself.

"I'll look out for them. Both of them. You know I will," Wanda promised, looking up just as Sarah bounded into the room, loaded down suitcase dragging behind her.

"I'm ready! Are you ready?" Sarah asked excitedly. She was practically vibrating in place with excitement. Wanda gave Sarah a very pointed look and motioned toward their mother. With wide eyes, Sarah twirled and bounced over to her mother's side. "Mama, we'll be fine. We'll be safe, we always keep each other safe. You keep yourself safe, though, okay?" She pressed a kiss to her mom's cheek and grinned wide.

Magda sighed, ran a hand through Sarah's scraggly hair, and nodded longingly as she studied her daughters. Wanda held herself stiffly, as if she couldn't wait to be out of the house. As if a total opposite, Sarah stood loosely, bouncing on the balls of her feet with a wide smile, giving her mother a loving look.

"Alright. Be off, now. I love you, you know. Be safe." She pressed a kiss to Sarah's crown, then stood and did the same to Wanda, earning her a confused look in return. Magda just shrugged and wandered back over to her chair, flopping down in it with a sigh.

Wanda gathered Sarah's hand in her own, tugging the luggage with her other hand and ushered them both out of the house. The car ride was quiet and easy, both of them lost in their own thoughts, too excited about seeing Peter again that there was no room left for idle chatter.

The drive to New York passed by in a blur. A few hours after they had left their house in DC, they were pulling up in front of a mansion. Wanda couldn't help but gape at the sheer size of the building.

"And people live here?" Wanda muttered, echoing her twin's first sighting of the house. Sarah nodded her agreement, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as she pressed her face to the window.

Before they could even park, there was a grey blur and Peter was at Wanda's window, waiting to yank her out. Wanda slammed the car into park and killed the engine before vaulting from the car, straight into Peter's arms. Sarah followed seconds later, latching onto both of them.

When they finally parted, Wanda's eyes roved over her brother, looking for any signs of neglect. He looked brilliant, far better than she had ever seen him in all the years she had been by his side. He had actually managed to put on some weight, he had a healthy tan, and he was smiling from ear to ear.

"Well, look at you!" she squealed, Sarah nodding along eagerly. In one fell swoop, Peter leaned down to scoop Sarah up onto his hip and spun her about while laughing maniacally. Wanda giggled at his antics, and when he finally stopped spinning, leaned her forehead against his.

"Ah, our guests have arrived. Pietro, why didn't you tell us?"

"Too excited, man. Sorry!" Peter shouted back, cradling his sisters close to his chest. The men that had come to their house exited the mansion and made their way over to the siblings.

"Wanda, Sarah. A pleasure once again," the posh man greeted, polite smile gracing his lips as he looked up at them all. A fond glint shone from his eyes as he took them all in together. "Well, there is no denying you are all related, now is there?" he said with a chuckle.

Hank, the tall, lanky man from before, stepped up then and smiled calmly. "Hello," he said, waving awkwardly. Wanda gave him a small smile in return, but Sarah rushed forward and wrapped herself around Hank's middle.

"You said you have a lab. What kind of lab? Can I see? You said Peter gets to help you, can I help too?" she rattled off, barely stopping for breath. She continued to chatter at him, meanwhile Hank looked very similar to a deer caught in headlights. He glanced up at the girl's siblings as if asking for help, but they were too busy sharing amused glances with each other.

"I'm sure Hank would love to have your assistance in his lab, my dear. For now, why don't we head inside? I'm sure Pietro's got a lot to tell you both." The Professor eyed Peter shrewdly, as if they had already had a discussion pertaining to this, and Peter had lost.

Peter glanced between his sisters, then hefted Sarah up to his shoulders and zipped Wanda inside and straight up to his room. As Wanda recovered from the unexpected trip, Peter plopped Sarah onto the bed and then started pacing.

"Well, that was quite rude," Wanda muttered as she fell down onto the bed herself, eyeing Peter warily. "What is it that you need to tell me, Peter? What's happened since you arrived here?"

Peter looked so guilty, and Wanda had no clue why, unless he thought she was going to lay into him about the idiotic prison break he had taken part in. Don't get her wrong, that was _definitely_ a conversation they were going to have in the near future, but she had just arrived and she would rather revel in the fact that Peter was _fine_ than bite his head off about stupid ideas.

"Well, uhm." He glanced down at Sarah, who was staring up at him with wide eyes, and then sighed heavily. "I kind of found our dad," he blurted out, wincing at the shocked look that took over Wanda's face.

"You _what_?!" she screeched, turning to face his mirror where the one picture of their father that either twin had ever unearthed was tucked away, and then swung back to Peter. "And you didn't _tell_ me? Peter, what the hell!"

"Well, in my defense, you're not going to be happy to find out who Magnus became," he whined back. He always hated fighting with Wanda, because he always came out sounding like a little kid. There was no way they could argue and not end up sounding like two five year olds bickering.

Wanda looked confused, and Sarah was just staring between them both, trying to understand what was going on. "Magnus? Who's Magnus?"

"Oh, you weren't there when that happened. When Dad was married to Mom, his name was Magnus. But that's not what he goes by, now." Peter took a deep breath and spit out, "Erik Lehnsherr." When that got no reaction, he reiterated, " _Magneto_." And _there_ was the look of horror and disgust he had been originally waiting for.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," Wanda groaned, falling onto her back onto the bed once more. "We spend all that time, our whole _childhoods_ , thinking up more and more things that could have happened to him, and he was too busy off being evil to take time to be our dad?"

Peter wholeheartedly agreed. It was practically the same thing he had spat back in the guy's face a few weeks earlier. "I met him," Peter grumbled, plopping down on his desk chair, and Sarah eagerly wandered over to sit in his lap. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head. "He was a jerk, but he knows I'm his kid, now. He didn't know about us, and he still doesn't know about you. I didn't know if you would want him to. It was kind of an accident he even found out about me in the first place."

Wanda groaned and buried her head in Peter's pillow. "What are we gonna do now? We're the children of a freakin' psychopath!" That thought seemed to strike her with an even worse realization. "Wait, is psychopathy hereditary? Are we going to go crazy, too? Ugh, _this day_ , Peter. I swear."

"Yeah, I don't know. I _hope_ not." A heavy silence flowed between them then for a few long minutes, before Peter broke it once more. "He said he wants to try, you know. To be a dad. I told him that's great and all, but what happens if I don't agree with all the stuff he keeps spouting? He didn't know, so I told him not to come back around here until he had a good answer. So, that should give us a good ten to twenty years before he shows up around here again."

Wanda tried to smile at Peter's humor, but she felt too drained. One too many shocks to her system in so short a time.

"You have anything to eat in this joint?" she grumbled a few moments later, her face still shoved down into the pillow that was her new best friend. Peter chuckled and threw Sarah back over his shoulder before gathering Wanda up in his arms, too. He zoomed them all down to the kitchen and deposited them both in chairs at the table while he rummaged through the fridge.

Just like old times, really.

The next few days passed quietly enough. The siblings were nigh-inseparable, barely ever out of sight of each other.

Sarah had taken a liking to Hank and his labs, prancing about the sterile room in her poofy princess dress while Hank droned on about what he was doing with his most recent project.

Meanwhile, Wanda and Charles had hit it off quite spectacularly. The moment Charles had commented that he would love to try to help her control her mutation, she had been putty in his hands. The power that thrummed through her veins had been a constant source of fear for her throughout the years, never knowing if she got angry if she might hurt someone near her on accident.

And Peter watched his sisters fit in so seamlessly with a wide smile. They needed some normal in their lives, something they could depend on. They all loved their mother, but they all also knew that she wasn't the most dependable person on Earth. It was good to have other adults they could go to that understood and cared about them.

It was as Wanda was working with Charles out on the grounds, her magic spiraling through the air in red waves and sparks, when _he_ finally showed up. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had _known_ that he would probably show up while they were here. But to be faced with the reality of the situation so suddenly had her breathing heavily, heart pounding uncertainly.

It didn't help that she hadn't recognized him when he entered their training area.

She saw a man she didn't recognize coming closer towards them, and she saw red, both figuratively and literally. Her magic congregated around her body, swirling unhappily, before she sent it out at the intruder with a fierce snarl. She may have only just arrived, but she adored this sanctuary, and she wouldn't let anyone take this newfound peace away from her.

She was vicious, though she didn't cause any long-lasting harm. Her magic swirled around the man, holding him at bay with sharp edges and painful sparks. When she saw his eyes narrow and his teeth bared in a snarl, she returned the expression with equal fervor, tightening her bonds until the man couldn't move at all, and it was probably quite painful even to breath.

And then he spoke.

"Charles!" he growled, still trying to struggle though it obviously caused him pain.

Wanda whirled around to face her mentor and saw the man grinning in his chair behind her, hand covering his mouth to stifle the giggling. She was confused; was this man a friend of the Professor's? If so, why hadn't Charles stopped her?

"Professor? Who is that?" she asked, poking her thumb over her shoulder at the struggling man.

"That is Erik Lehnsherr, my dear. He comes in peace. At least, I _hope_ he does," Charles joked with a grin, enjoying watching the older man squirm in his bonds.

The moment the man's name left Charles' mouth, Wanda's eyes widened and she whirled around, her magic fading away as if it had never existed in the first place. With wide eyes and a bouncing heartbeat, Wanda took in the man in front of her.

He was tall, and pale, and well-built. And furious. Absolutely _bat-shit_ furious.

Before he could come much closer, Wanda turned tail and sprinted back into the house, wishing for once in her life that _she_ had been the one to be born with the super speed. Peter wasn't in the kitchen, _or_ the dining room, _or_ the living room, _or_ anywhere on the first floor. She tripped up the stairs hastily, calling out for Peter at the top of her lungs.

He finally materialized in the doorway of his room, looking disheveled but alert. "What? What happened? Where's Sarah?"

Wanda slammed into his chest and just stayed there for a long moment, trying to get her breath back. "He's here," she whispered finally, gripping his shirt tight. "And I think he's angry with me. I kinda, sorta attacked him before I realized who he was," she said sheepishly.

Peter cracked a grin at that, relaxing slightly. "Alright. We knew he might show up while you two were here. Sarah's safe down with Hank in the lab. Let's go get this over with, yeah?" He pulled back and ran a hand through her hair. "Ready to face the big, bad Magneto?" he asked teasingly, waving his fingers in her face.

She rolled her eyes but followed him down the stairs timidly, not quite sure how to feel about this confrontation. The man was her father. The man was also a murderous, radical terrorist that scared the ever-loving _shit_ out of her.

She was Peter's shadow as they entered the kitchen, where Magneto and the Professor were chatting quietly. Magneto looked annoyed now, instead of murderous, but also slightly nervous.

Her stomach cramped uncomfortably as she got a closer look at the man that was her father. She saw where Peter got his jaw from, where she got her nose. Her hair was a similar shade to his, and when he smirked at something the Professor said, all she could see was her brother.

This man, this _murderer_ , was standing at the breakfast bar where she had eaten her morning meal, acting as if he belonged there and nothing was wrong with this situation at all.

Peter gripped her hand tightly and moved them both further into the room, gaining the attention of the older men. Wanda bit her lip, watching as Magneto's eyes lit up in a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.

"I'm quite certain last time we spoke, you did not mention any _siblings_ ," Magneto drawled, eyes taking in everything about the girl that he could. He was already quite impressed with her abilities and interested to see what she was like while not trying to crush his lungs.

Wanda shivered at the sound of his voice, but met his gaze defiantly. She was at war with herself; she was nervous and frightened, but she didn't want to _seem_ nervous or frightened in front of this man. She felt like any sign of weakness might be taken like a shark smelling blood in the water.

"Yes, well. Peter only just told _me_ about _you_ a few days ago," Wanda snarled right back, feeling the need to protect her brother. If he was going to be antagonistic and annoying, she would rather not have any relationship with him at all.

Magneto's eyes widened at her tone, and hers narrowed in response. He would find that she was no pushover; she took her duty to her siblings very seriously indeed.

"Wanda, correct?" She nodded, her hand flexing in Peter's grip. "That was quite a display earlier. Do you always attack everyone that wanders onto the property without announcing themselves first?"

Wanda grinned dangerously. "Well, you were an intruder. I've become quite fond of this place in the short amount of time I've been here. I'll protect it as I see fit," she declared, head held high. Peter watched her fondly, Charles' surprised expression barely registering in her peripheral vision as she locked eyes with Magneto.

He dipped his head, understanding filling his eyes as he glanced down at the seated Professor sadly.

The tension was shattered as Sarah ran into the room, Hank on her heels. Her princess dress fluttered about her as she pranced up to her brother and sister happily. "Wanda! Peter! Look what we made down in Hank's lab!" She excitedly shoved a glass vial into Peter's hands and waited for them to 'ooh' and 'ah' appropriately.

Though they had no idea what was in the vial, the twins observed it closely and intently. "Fascinating, baby sis," Peter praised, swirling the liquid around while Wanda continued to study it.

"Yes. Amazing, love," Wanda sung, running a careful hand through Sarah's hair. She leaned down to blow a wet raspberry on Sarah's cheek, and the resultant squeal was like a salve to her soul. Peter handed the vial back to Hank with an indulgent look and then carefully guided Sarah back out of the room without letting her notice the stranger standing with the Professor.

The moment the two siblings were out of the room, Magneto asked quietly, "You're not going to tell me that one's mine, too. Are you?" Though he was only half-joking, he still waited for Charles to respond. Charles just rolled his eyes and rolled over to Wanda.

"My dear, I didn't know you felt so protective of this place. Does it truly feel like home so quickly?" She looked nervous again as she looked into the Professor's bright blue eyes and nodded.

"I don't have to hide, here. Even at home, Mama was always so worried something might happen, that someone might see us. It's exhausting, always keeping your guard up," she admitted, shamefaced.

Erik felt something crack in his chest at that admission, perhaps his long-disused paternal feelings resurfacing, perhaps indigestion. "You shouldn't have to hide," he said harshly, voice cold and hard. "None of us should have to hide who we are, what we can do. This is what I'm talking about, Charles," Erik bit out, waving a wild hand at Wanda, whose eyes had grown wide in shock.

Charles cut him off mid-rant, a fierce glare on his normally jovial face. "Erik. Stop this right now. You're frightening Wanda." And sure enough, Wanda looked about two seconds away from bolting from the room. Erik looked slightly guilty at that realization, but his brain often chose his instincts over his common sense.

"I realize she's young, and she doesn't fully understand these things yet, but _Charles_. You're older, more experienced. You _must_ understand," he pressed, stepping closer to them. "The humans will never accept us," he told Wanda, locking eyes with her. "From what I've gathered about the person your mother has become, she's a prime example. Yes, she's had her own difficulties in the past, but she's thrown what they did to us back onto all of you!"

Wanda gasped, reeling back as if he had struck her. She blinked back the tears that were threatening to break free and tried to wrangle her anger into something coherent. Her eyes glowed red, and she felt the wet anger building in her chest, in her throat. She hated wet anger; it was always so much easier to chew someone out when you weren't also choking back sobs.

No, her mother wasn't perfect, but at least she had been _around_. And she _did_ love them, in her own, paranoid way. "Don't you _dare_ speak of my mother as if you know a thing about her any more. You haven't seen her in, what, seventeen, eighteen years? You can't even scratch the surface of how damaged she is because of her past, yet she still _tried_. She _tried_ to be a good mother, to take care of us and love us and protect us from the terrible things she knows that people can do to each other. And my _baby sister_ is a human, jackass. Know your audience before you start spouting off racist shit." She poked him in the chest with her wagging finger aggressively and then shoved him away from herself, turned on her heel, and stormed out of the room in a rage.

"Well, that didn't go so well, now did it?" Charles asked snidely, glaring unhappily at Erik.

Erik just looked confused and shocked. Had he read her wrong? He was sure that she would be more open to his viewpoint than Peter had been. Apparently, he had been dead wrong. It would have been nice to know the little sister was human, or he might not have shoved his foot so far in his mouth. Wait, she was human?

"The little girl is not a mutant? No mutation at all?" he asked, sounding far too confused for Charles' liking.

"Yes. She hasn't shown any signs of mutation, but she is very bright, energetic, and came as a package deal with the twins. I'm sure she'll be a wonderful addition to the school, once term begins." Charles glared at Erik, daring him to contradict his words.

Erik spluttered, not quite sure he had heard correctly. "You allowed a _human_ child to come to a school specifically built for _mutants_ ," he reiterated slowly, waiting for Charles to correct him, but it never came. Erik felt the scowl marring his face, but he couldn't help it.

Rising from the table abruptly, Erik stomped from the room. "I'll be back in a few days. Let them _settle_ ," he grumbled, before disappearing out through the back door. Charles banged his head against his palm, wondering how the man could be so blind, so belligerent.

"The nerve of that man!" Wanda screeched, pacing back and forth across Peter's bedroom floor, Sarah cradled against her chest. Sarah wasn't quite sure what had happened, but she knew her big sister was terribly angry, and had snatched her up the moment she had seen her.

"I know. I told you, he's a jerk," Peter commiserated with her, leaning against his bed comfortably.

"It's more than that, though. It's like he doesn't realize that the crap he's spouting is the same stuff that was spouted during World War Two. Just replace 'Jew' with 'human' and it's his ideology. Yeah, he has different reasons behind his prejudice, but the end game is the same," Wanda growled. She couldn't believe that her father would disgrace her human _mother_ , her human _sister_ , against her like that. As if she should hate them because of what they were.

"I hope he stays away," Wanda growled protectively.

"Doubt it," Peter replied instantly. "I thought after our blowout that he would stay away forever, but he showed up again a few weeks later. That just shows that he's just as bullheaded as us."

"Wonderful," Wanda grumbled, feeling the adrenaline and anger slowly starting to fade. All she wanted was to snuggle on the bed with her siblings, and forget today ever happened.

Flopping down on the bed, she positioned Sarah between them, and then leaned into Peter's solid weight. She needed something to ground her right now.

"Everything will work out, you'll see," Sarah said softly into the silence. Wanda sighed; Sarah was usually right, even when she was just trying to be supportive and understanding.

The thing was, Wanda wasn't sure she _wanted_ it to work out.

The man she had met today was so far from father material, he was on another planet. It was ridiculous. And it wasn't even like the twins _needed_ a dad anymore, much less a murderous-terrorist dad.

No, everyone would be much better off if Erik Lehnsherr never showed his face anywhere near them ever again.

Charles found them huddled together like that a few hours later, an indulgent look on his face as he wheeled closer. He hated to wake them, but it was time for dinner.

"Children!" he called, and secretly grinned at the way Sarah jumped up from between her siblings, eyes wide and alert. Pietro and Wanda, on the other hand, blinked sleepily up at him, grumbling all the while. There was no denying they were twins.

"Dinner. Come along." He didn't wait for them to move, just wheeled himself towards the elevator that Hank had put in months ago for him. Once everyone was at the dinner table, Hank began his questioning.

"So, Wanda. How did things go with Erik, earlier?" Since Hank had not been in the room for most of the conversation, it was an obvious question. Wanda couldn't help but feel a surge of anger at the mention of the man, but answered him anyhow.

"He was a jackass, and he left. End of story." She wrapped a protective arm around her baby sister and then continued to mangle her dinner, stabbing at it with vigor. Peter, meanwhile, continued to eat calmly as if nothing had happened.

"O-kay," Hank drawled, giving Charles a pointed look. Charles nodded; he would explain later.

Peter stopped eating then, his fork halfway to his mouth as he realized something. "Having Sarah here isn't a problem, is it? I mean, she's not a mutant, but we can't just leave her with Mom. Not when those government people are still snooping around."

Charles quelled Peter's worries easily enough. "It's fine, Pietro. Erik was just surprised, and rightly so, I suppose. I created this school to give mutants a safe haven. I see no problem giving your sister a safe haven as well, despite her lack of mutant abilities."

Sarah just hummed happily from her space in Wanda's arms, apparently fully content to ignore the conversation around her in favor of her dinner.

Erik appeared not even a week later, looking both disgruntled and nervous. He sought out Wanda before anyone else, finding her playing with Sarah in the backyard. He stayed back for a few moments, just watching his daughter's face light up in joy as she played with her very human baby sister. It was surprising, then, that the very human baby sister was the one who noticed him first.

She twirled on her heel, a wide grin on her face, but then she seemed to freeze in mid-motion. She turned to face him, where he hid in the shadow of the mansion, and her smile slowly faded into a blankness that hid her usual bubbly personality. It wasn't the sort of look he thought she might give him; though he had never been around children very much, he had assumed the girl would pout at his appearance, perhaps stick her tongue out at him. Yet, there was something darker behind her dark eyes; something deliberate, like she knew exactly who he was and what he had said about her during his last visit.

"Wanda," she said forcefully, taking long purposeful strides to her sister's side. She didn't cower behind the other girl, either. She stood her ground, right next to her older sister, her eyes never leaving Erik's. Wanda glanced first down at her Sarah and then followed her gaze back toward the building, where she saw Erik for herself. Her scowl was even more soul-crushing than her sister's blank face.

"Mr. Lehnsherr," Wanda greeted him icily, and Erik was surprised to hear a bit of an accent lacing her words. The last time they had spoken, she had shown no sign of any sort of accent. "To what do we owe this _necessity_?"

"I've come to apologize, Wanda." And then, without missing a beat, he turned to Sarah and kneeled before her. He saw Wanda's brows raise in surprise before she quickly blanked her face. Sarah just continued to stare at him unhappily. "My dear, Sarah - yes? Your sister may have told you, but the last time I was here, I said some very not-nice things about you and your mother. I just wanted to apologize; what I said came out much harsher than I had meant."

Sarah remained stony faced, and Wanda started to worry. Her baby sister never looked that serious unless she was really, truly pissed off. For an eight year old, she knew herself terribly well.

"I do not accept your apology, Mr. Lehnsherr. I know the things you have said, the things you believe, and the things you have done in the past and plan to do in the future. You are only apologizing because Wanda and Pietro are angry with you. You think that getting into my good books should be easy, and then my siblings will feel better about you. You are wrong. They have their own minds, and their own preferences. It will not be as easy as you think." Sarah sized the man up, noticing his shocked, wide eyes, and then hauled back and spit at his knees before turning on her heel and storming back into the house.

Wanda winced and watched her sister leave, and then turned to glare down at the shocked man. "Was that really your plan? To use her to sway us to your side? Get your priorities straight, and come up with some better plans, asshole."

With that, she followed her sister into the house and left Erik to wallow on his knees in the sun.

Well, with that gigantic bust, Erik wandered back into the house and collapsed on Charles' sofa, a glass of whiskey in his hand as he glared at the wall. He wasn't sure what to do next; the little girl was far more perceptive than her older siblings seemed to be. He mulled over her words. He hadn't actively planned on using her to get an in with her siblings, but now that he thought about it, it did seem like something he might do. He had just been too shocked to react.

After a while, Charles wheeled himself into the room and just sat there, staring at Erik for a few long moments. Finally, he sighed and made himself a drink, taking up position right across from the man.

"Another attempt, Erik? It seems you've only managed to irk Sarah something fierce. And if you've angered her, her siblings aren't far behind."

"You think I haven't realized that, Charles?" Erik ground out, kicking his leg out at the table in a fit of rage. He didn't know what to _do_. Family was important to him, even if he hadn't known that he was a father for all these years, that didn't mean that he wanted to leave them as if he wanted nothing to do with them. He was their father, dammit! He just wanted them to... well, he wasn't really sure _what_ he wanted from them. Acceptance? People that didn't want him for what he could do for them, but people that were _his_ , all the same.

He wallowed in his hurt feelings, staring into his drink as Charles stared at him in silence. Finally, it seemed to be too much for the telepath, and Erik realized that he had forgotten to put the helmet on before he left.

"If you truly feel like that, then why don't you just tell them? Remember, they've all grown up without a father in their lives. They barely even had a concept of who you had been back then, when you were with their mother. Maybe start with that. Tell them a bit about yourself, and keep the anti-human sentiment to yourself."

Though Erik was loathe to accept it, Charles had a point. It was as he was debating it, that the children appeared in the doorway.

"You needed something, Charles?" Peter asked, looking askance at Erik. Sarah was still staring blankly at Erik, her hand held tightly in Wanda's, who seemed to be ignoring him in favor of Charles.

"Yes, Pietro. Thank you. Erik here," he said, waving at Erik on the couch, "was wondering if he could tell you a bit about himself. From when he knew your mother. He's sorry that's he's angered all of you so much, and doesn't have the emotional awareness of a teaspoon to know how to fix it, so I'm doing it for him. Tea?"

Peter grinned at that, rolling his eyes as he settled on the sofa near Charles. Wanda followed her twin at a slower pace, looking slightly worried. Sarah huffed but settled between the twins, glaring at her siblings' father.

"Yes, well...," Erik muttered, flushing in the cheeks because he _didn't know what to do_! How did he even begin?

 _Start from the beginning. How did you meet?_

Charles' voice in his mind was quiet, almost as if he wanted to nudge Erik in the right direction, instead of using a battering ram to get him herded towards the correct words.

"Your-Your mother was..." and there he was, stuttering once more. He flashed panicked eyes towards Charles, regretting this conversation after only three words, and Charles sighed. It was laced with such disappointment, and Erik couldn't believe he was doing that again, disappointing Charles when Charles was only trying to help. Erik took a deep breath, ignored the others in the room, and threw himself back to that time. When he had been young, stupid, and madly in love.

"Magda was in the same camp as me. We were rescued together. I had seen her about, I knew her face, but never her name. She was lucky; both her mother and father made it through. Her brother wasn't so fortunate. Pietro is actually named after him… I never met him. After we were rescued, Magda's family took me in, because I didn't have anyone of my own."

He paused catching his breath. That was more than he had ever told anyone, and it barely scratched the surface. He peeked up at his children, and saw everyone staring at him with rapt attention.

Looking away, he continued. "We were very happy, married a few years after we were liberated. We… we had a daughter, Anya. And we were happy. And then she died, in a fire, and Magda disappeared. She was… _afraid_ , of me. Of what I could do."

He took a shaky breath, and glared at the table. "She disappeared after that, and I wandered. That was when I started hunting Nazis down. Before, it hadn't seemed to matter as much as my wife and daughter. But after, it was all I could think about. It was the only thing that mattered."

The children were all wet-eyed, even the little spit-fire Sarah. Wanda looked on the edge of a breakdown, and Pietro looked shell shocked, _still_ for the first time Erik could remember.

"I tried my hand at fatherhood before. And I got my daughter murdered in a fiery mess. I don't want that for you," he said, staring between Wanda and Pietro. "I want to know you, but I don't know _how_ to do that. I don't know how to do much, anymore. I am not a people-person. But I'm _trying_." And he _was_. If they believed nothing else, they had to at least believe that.

"But my question still stands," Pietro said quietly, looking mournful even as he said the words. "What are you going to do if we all end up on separate sides of this war you want to rage?"

Wanda picked up on his words, continuing, "We don't have the same ideals, the same reasoning. We love our mother, though you apparently don't anymore. We can't just abandon her and our sister, because you think you're _right_ , and every human is against us."

Erik stood then, his face contorted in rage and confusion. "Do you not understand?!" he shouted, making the children flinch back in shock. "I don't _care_ about that! You could be as human as your mother, you could openly fight against me and my ideals, and I wouldn't give a rat's ass. My Anya, she was human. And she was the most precious thing in my world. I know there are decent human beings, but I do not fight against the decent human beings. I fight against the ones that would wish to see us destroyed. I am trying to _protect_ us all." He shook his head; he had strayed from the topic. "I have not known you your whole lives. I have not been allowed to love you since the moment you were born. But you are my children, and I feel for you just as I felt for Anya all those years ago. Will you deny me this over petty squabbles?"

Wanda thought it was all more than petty squabbles, but she understood what he was trying to say. She exchanged looks with her brother and sister, and felt their agreement in her soul. They would give him a chance. A chance he had better not screw up.

Somehow, Wanda found herself the unofficial spokesperson. "We will let you _try_ ," she started, and her face softened when she saw him sag in relief. "But for now, I think we will retire for the night. There is much we need to discuss." With that, the twins rose as one, Sarah clinging to Peter's back. Peter gave Erik one final look before scooping Wanda up in his arms and zooming upstairs.

Once they were gone, Erik sighed long and hard, his entire body shaking in relief. He turned to face Charles, hoping that terribly disappointed look had been lifted from his face. Sure enough, Charles was practically _beaming_ at him, pride shining from his eyes.

"Well done, old friend. Well done, indeed."

Erik let the tiniest grin spread across his face, looking towards the stairs wistfully. Perhaps he hadn't screwed up too badly, after all.

He gave them a few more days. A few more days to adjust to their bargain, to wrap their heads around what he had told them. When he walked into the mansion, he was expecting someone to be waiting for him, but instead he found Sarah slouched on the sofa. He checked her breathing; she wasn't dead, just unconscious. He lifted her up and wandered further into the house; where were Charles and Hank?

After a frantic search throughout the house, with little Sarah slouched in his arms, he finally found them down in the basement, where Cerebro had been moved after they had parted ways years before. Charles was deep in thought, scanning the world for someone very important, it seemed. Hank paced outside the door, his skin starting to tinge blue the more agitated he became.

"What has happened?" Erik asked, cradling the girl closer to his chest. Surely by now, Peter or Wanda would be pestering them with questions. If they weren't down there with the others, then where were they?

Hank stopped mid-stride, eyes wide and feral. "Someone took them. The twins. We found Sarah unconscious, and the twins were gone. Charles is trying to find them, now."

Erik felt his vision tunnel but nodded all the same, suddenly feeling numb. He slid down the wall to the floor outside of Cerebro's door, his eyes falling shut in defeat. He had just got them, he couldn't lose them now! He felt Sarah starting to wake on his lap, and hoisted her closer, hoping that she wouldn't lash out once awake.

Instead, he heard her gasp as she woke with a start, her eyes flying open. Her bare forehead was pressed against his throat, and she seemed to be choking on air. Frightened, Erik shoved her away, but she still continued to choke, clutching at her throat.

"Hank! _Hank_!" Erik shouted, and Hank was at her side in seconds, checking her airway, trying to find out what was wrong. Finally, her frantic sounds seemed to lessen, and she turned wide eyes onto Erik's face.

"So… much… _pain_ ….," she whimpered, and tears filled her eyes as she sobbed on the floor, scrabbling into his lap once again. She stared into his eyes and reached out with her hand, shoving it onto his cheek roughly, her eyes going glazed and distant.

Erik didn't know what was going on, other than a constant pressure on his cheek from her small hand. Finally, she seemed to come back to herself, and grinned wide.

"I know where they are!" she shouted, hopping down from Erik's lap like she did it every day. "A man named Stryker. He took them to Canada, a complex beneath Alkali Lake. We need to hurry; Wanda's starting to feel murderous."

"What? How did you find that out?" Sarah just waggled her fingers in Erik's face, an impish smile on her face as she danced out of range of his hands, her choking problem apparently totally forgotten.

"Me to know, you to find out!" she shouted, already rushing towards the hangar where Hank's latest jet sat at the ready. Charles and Hank rushed after her, only waiting a moment for Erik to follow.

The flight was silent, everyone too worried about what might happen to try to talk. As they travelled further and further north, it got colder and colder. Sarah finally came out of her sudden silent funk and settled herself beside Erik, running her tiny fingers over the bare skin on the back of his hand, smirking every time her hand brushed over his.

"What are you doing?" he asked, and Sarah surprised him by answering with a smile.

"Watching memories." She turned to him then, looking far too innocent to be anything but. "Did you really think I was human?" When Erik just blinked back at her in shock, she shrugged her shoulders and continued on, "Well, Wanda did too, so I guess I can't blame you. And I never told anyone anything different. I suppose I walked right into it."

Her tiny smiles every time her finger brushed his skin was starting to frighten him. "What do you see?" he finally asked.

She seemed to take the question into consideration, before answering.

"I see you happy, and I see Mama happy, and a baby." Another brush of the hand, another smile granted. "A dance in a barn. You're so _young_ ," she said with a scrunched up nose. "A dark haired woman, your mama? She's smiling, and lighting a candlestick."

Erik didn't realize he was crying until he felt the tears hit his hand. Sarah paused in her soft touches, turning to look up at him. "I see things, sometimes. Wanda says I get feelings; that I know things are going to happen and they usually do. And I know that everything will work out, and everything will be fine soon. You'll see."

As if that ended the conversation, Sarah nestled beside Erik and waited for them to land in silence. Erik found himself wrapping an arm around her shoulders, too in shock to do much else.

When they did finally land in the snow and cold, Erik found himself oddly calm. If Sarah could see things, and she had said everything would be fine, then he believed her. He would get his children back, and then he would set things right. No matter what.

"Sarah, you stay here with Charles. Watch his back," Erik told her, and she nodded back in determination. Hank and Erik left the jet then, nothing but getting the twins back on their minds.

It was easy enough to enter the base; it seemed there was the bare minimum of guards at the perimeter. Erik used the metal on their uniforms against them, reaching out with a hand that directed his power. All the guards he could sense were down in seconds, knocked unconscious, though he wished he could bash their skulls in for daring to steal his children.

Hank nodded his thanks as he worked on opening the door. After a few agonizing minutes, it clicked open and they ran inside, Charles searching ahead of them to warn them of soldiers in their path. However, the place seemed suspiciously empty. The deeper they got into the building, the more the squirmy feeling in his gut started acting up. What if Sarah was wrong, what if they weren't there, what if this was all a trap? Sarah had hated him from the moment they met, though he had to admit that he had exacerbated the situation.

Just as Erik was beginning to lose hope, he heard someone up ahead. _There! Three doors down, there are two men, and the twins_ , Charles projected into their minds. Erik nodded to Hank, and the younger man stood to open the door, so Erik could disable the men the moment the door opened.

Taking a stabilizing breath, Erik gave Hank a jerky nod, and the man yanked the door open. All Erik saw was a bloody knife in the man's hand, and he saw red. Peter was passed out on the floor, bloody and dirty. Wanda was laying on a gurney, eyes flickering feverishly as she tried to maneuver her hands into position to use her magic, though she was having no success. Then her eyes caught sight of Erik in the doorway, and a real, honest smile spread across her face. Erik didn't waste another second; he threw his hands out and watched as the metal on the men's uniforms ripped from their clothes and flew back to slam into their heads, wrap around their necks. He heard the men choking in the background, but he tried to ignore them as he rushed to Wanda's side. Hank was already shoving his way over to check on Peter.

"You came for us?" she asked, sounding relieved and confused. Her accent was thick from fatigue and fear, and Erik thought he had never heard something so beautiful. The fact that his daughter had thought that he would leave her to rot here sat uncomfortably in his gut.

"Of course I came for you. For both of you. I have failed you far too much in the short time I've known you; I wouldn't fail in this, too." He wiped her hair out of her eyes, brushed the sweat from her brow. Her eyes were thrumming with red energy, but it was slowly dimming as her magic realized that she was now safe.

"Can we go home?" she whispered, cringing at the smallness of her own voice. She was always brave, always knew what to do, what to be. But this was all too much for her; she had been so scared, fearing that they wouldn't find them before it was too late. Or worse, that they wouldn't be able to find them at all.

"Yes, my little one. Of course." Erik glanced over to where Hank was hoisting the still unconscious Peter up to his shoulder and lifted Wanda up as well. He held her close to his chest and noticed the moment she went slack in his arms, losing the fight with her own consciousness.

They returned to the jet, neither man noticing the stern faced young man that was still dangling from his neck against the wall, the metal from his belt holding him up. He glared daggers after them, committing their names and faces to memory.

Erik and Hank entered the jet, and after Hank set Peter down, he ran to the cockpit to start the jet up. They were up in the air minutes later, but by that time, Erik and Sarah had started getting the twins as comfortable as possible. They maneuvered the teens into comfortable positions and then they took up watch beside them. Sarah stared at her brother and sister with a mask of blankness. Erik watched her for a long moment before he sighed and reached out for her, tugging her back into her place on his lap. She curled close, closing her eyes, trying not to think of what might have happened had they not found them in time.

"It's alright, Sarah," Erik whispered in her ear, and she found herself believing him. She had to laugh at the irony; it wasn't more than a few hours ago that she had been telling him that everything would be alright. It seemed that she couldn't even believe herself anymore. "It's alright, my dear. We'll get them back to the mansion, Hank will fix them up." He sighed, seemingly debating something with himself, before he pressed on, "And then after that, I think we'll call up your mama, tell her what's happened."

Sarah reared back at that. "You want to see Mama? Are you sure?"

He chuckled, long and hard and deep, feeling a million times better. This girl was growing on him. "She deserves to know. I think I can handle her ire while she dotes on her children."

Sarah's face scrunched up. "She won't be doing any doting; you must have forgotten. She'll be alternating between yelling and crying and blaming and screaming and smiling. Just wait, you'll see." And that declaration seemed to be her final straw; she was just so _tired_. Maybe her powers were more draining than she had realized.

Erik ran his hand up and down Sarah's back, terribly aware that Charles had been staring at them through their entire conversation. "Sleep now, Sarah. It's been a long day; I'm sure you're tired."

She nodded sleepily into his shoulder and closed her eyes. That sounded nice. And he made for a good pillow. Over her head, Erik raised his eyes to meet Charles' gaze, staring him down, daring him to say something. Charles just smiled, small and proud and happy. It hit Erik hard; he hadn't seen Charles look at him, or anyone really, like that in a very long time, and it made heat blossom in his chest and radiate out through his body. Maybe he was doing something right, after all.

Peter woke with a pounding headache and pain radiating throughout his body. It hurt just to open his eyes, but he had to; he had to know if they had hurt Wanda after he had passed out. He was kicking himself even as he tried to turn to see his twin; he was the oldest, he was supposed to protect her, and what does he do? He passes out after a few hours of getting sliced and diced. How pathetic was he?

With a weak snarl, Peter lifted himself up to his elbows, a little surprised that he wasn't chained or handcuffed to the bed. And, wait? A bed? He was bleeding on the floor last he remembered; had they moved him?

And then he looked around, and realized that he was back in his room at the school. He couldn't hold in the sickeningly relieved sob that tore from his throat.

"Wanda! Wanda, Sarah?" he whimpered, falling out of bed in his search for his sisters. He needed them with him. He needed to touch them, make sure that this was real and not a twisted dream.

As he was crawling toward the door in a panic and in pain, the door opened slowly, Erik poking his head in before walking in himself. "Peter," he said softly, quietly, kindly. Peter bristled, his face screwing up in fear and pain. What was he doing here? Was he going to hurt Peter while he was already injured, for all the things he had said to him before?

Peter flinched away from Erik's outreached hand. It was like a slap to the face to the older mutant, and he pulled back, rethinking what to do. "Peter, look at me," he ordered softly, and when the boy finally raised his eyes, half lidded though they were, Erik reached out again, going slower this time. He rested his hand on Peter's shoulder and when he didn't react, Erik slid to the floor beside him and wrapped his arm around his shoulders.

Peter was confused. Didn't Erik despise them, because of all the things Peter had said, of what Wanda had done, of how much Sarah seemed to despise him? Why was he suddenly being nice?

Suspicious, Peter remained stiff beneath Erik's arm. Truthfully, this had been a dream of his for as long as he could recall. Having his dad with him at all would have been amazing, but he had always wished he was around to give him hugs, comfort him, to make him feel better after he had screwed something up.

And now it was here, it was actually happening, and he couldn't accept it. Because what if it was a lie? What if he was manipulating him? What if he was only being nice because Peter was hurt, or because he was feeling guilty? Just because he was being nice now, didn't mean that there weren't still a million and one problems between them.

But…

But. He really wanted this. He wanted a hug from his dad, no matter what strings were attached. And the fact that he could admit that to himself made his stomach churn; was he really so starved for affection, attention?

He found himself melting, muscle by muscle, into Erik's side. The arm around him tightened, Erik's thumb brushing against Peter's shoulder over and over, the man's breath hot on the crown of Peter's head as Erik's breathing picked up. Peter flinched slightly; that didn't sound like he was just breathing hard, that sounded like Erik was crying. Over _him_.

Pulling back as slowly as he could, because no matter what was happening he really didn't want to leave his dad's arms, Peter looked up into Erik's face and, sure enough, there were tears streaking down his face, running down his cheeks, to his neck, down past the collar of his shirt. His eyes were already red and puffy, and Peter realized that this wasn't the first time the man had been crying in the last few hours.

Feeling a pit form in his stomach, Peter choked out, "Wanda? What happened to Wanda?"

Erik's eyes fluttered closed, sighing into Peter's shoulder even as he tugged him close once more. The silence was killing him; he needed to _know_. Tugging on Erik's arm once more, Peter tried to guilt him into answering with his eyes and sheer willpower alone. Finally, Erik crumbled.

"When we got there, they were using a knife on her. They cut a little too deep on her arm, and cut through some of the tendons," Erik explained. Peter watched his face; the man looked like he was going to be sick, and Peter honestly wasn't far behind him. "Hank says he can fix it, but it will take months to heal all the way. She's not permanently hurt, but she'll be in pain for a long while, yet."

Peter let out a shaky breath; it could have been worse. She could have been hurt so much worse. He collapsed against Erik's chest, not caring about the implications or what might happen. He wanted a hug, dammit. His sister was hurt and he was scared and he just wanted his dad to make it all better. Was that too much to ask?

"Everything will be alright, Pietro," Erik promised, and for the first time, Peter didn't snap at him that he wasn't allowed to call him that. At the moment, Erik could call him anything he damn well pleased. Peter was too tired to care.

They stayed like that, wrapped up together on the floor, for what felt like hours. When the timid knock came at the door, Erik was the only one to glance its way. Without moving, he unlocked the door, tugging it open. Sarah peeked inside, biting her lip.

"Wanda's awake. She's crying."

Peter shifted in his arms, perking up at the sound of his sister's name. Before Peter could demand to be taken to see her, Erik stood and lifted him into his arms, settling him back on his bed and tucking the sheets in around him. Peter looked confused and then murderous when he realized Erik wasn't taking him with him.

"I want to see Wanda!" he shouted, pounding his fists on the blanket, though it sent pain shooting through his arms. Erik stared at him for a long moment, before placing his hands on either side of Peter's head and leaning in close, so they were nearly nose to nose.

"I'm going to go take care of Wanda. We need to talk, just like you and I needed to talk." He took one hand from the bed and traced it down his jawline, his face softening. "I need to calm her down. And you need to sleep. I'll be back later. You can see Wanda after I've told her what's going on." Peter was shocked when Erik leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead. He stared up at Erik with wide, doe eyes, blinking sleepily, shocked. He nodded as Erik pulled away, turning to lay on his side. He watched as Erik went to the door, as he tugged it open, as he walked back out. Sarah watched him go as well, and then turned to Peter, settling in the bed beside him. He wrapped his arms around her, taking in her scent, and found himself relaxing. Sarah wasn't Wanda, but she was the next best thing.

He could hear the sobbing from here. Wanda and Peter's rooms were two doors apart, and the walls were fairly thick, so this was shocking. Shocking enough to have him running to her doorway.

The door was ajar, so he pushed it further open, ready to have something flung at his head. What he wasn't expecting was to walk into a room full of her magic, tugging and thrashing and pounding through the air.

It was nearly enough to drop him to the floor in shock and fear.

But he pulled himself together, squared his shoulders, and made his way to his daughter's bed. He collapsed on the floor next to her head. Her eyes were screwed shut, her injured arm hugged close to her chest, her healthy arm twisting about, keeping her magic swirling through the air.

His hand found her hair unbidden, twisting through it calmingly. She froze, her eyes flying open, and her eyes were practically dripping venom and magic. She was scared, he could tell, and she was ready to protect herself, now that she could. But she saw who it was, saw that he was on his knees on her level, looking at her calmly and lovingly.

Her arm fell limply to the bed and she stared at him in confusion. What was going on? What was she supposed to be doing?

"Wanda," he whispered, just like he had with Peter. It seemed to ground them, get their attention, saying their names in that soft, calm voice. She raised her eyes, which slowly filled with tears the longer she watched his face.

"It _hurts_ ," she explained, and winced at the sound of her own voice. But it was true; her arm felt like it was on fire, poison coursing through her veins setting off more pain through the rest of her body. "Make it _stop_."

He looked unsure. He bit his lip, went to stand, rethought himself and settled back down, stroked her cheek, played with her hair. In the end, he blinked rapidly before finally saying quietly, softly, "The men that took you, they hurt you. They cut through things that they should not have." She stared at him, refusing to say a word until he was finished. "Hank says that he can fix it, but it will take a while to heal. You'll be able to use your hand again in time, but for now, it won't work for you, and it will hurt."

Wanda blinked rapidly, staring down at her useless arm, and then her expression shifted into pure fury, and the magic still swirling through the air increased; it became oppressive, violent. It lashed out when she couldn't physically. She screamed herself hoarse, she destroyed her room, she cried until she had nothing left. Collapsing back onto her bed, completely spent, Wanda turned back to Erik, who had weathered the storm at her side stony-faced and calm.

When he noticed her eyes on him, he turned back to face her and waited, not quite sure what he was supposed to do. When she realized he wasn't going to do anything, say anything, she closed her eyes. If he wasn't going to do anything, why was he even here?

But then she felt the mattress dip and her eyes flew open. There he was, laying on his side right next to her, his arms folded up beneath him as he blinked back at her owlishly. It was so funny, so odd seeing him look so out of place and unsure, that she couldn't help but laugh out loud, giggling into her pillow hysterically.

He seemed to relax at that, his face softening as he smiled back. His face looked different when he smiled; younger, and happier. More open, she thought.

He reached out, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her into his chest, where Peter had been huddled minutes earlier. She sniffled there, wiping her face back and forth, enjoying the softness of his cotton shirt against her hot face.

"Did you kill them?" she wondered, half praying that he had. If they could never come after her again, she would be able to sleep better at night, she assumed.

"I didn't. I didn't think you or Peter would like that. But maybe I was wrong. Should I have killed them?" he asked, sounding suddenly unsure of himself. At her silence, he admitted quietly, "I wanted to. They _hurt_ you. You and Peter. That is unacceptable." He softened his rage by stroking her arm, back and forth, back and forth. He felt his anger cool, his inner fire bank as his daughter sighed in his arms.

"No," she admitted. "I don't want you to kill them."

He nodded into her hair, just breathing her in. She was dirty and sweaty and disgusting and covered in blood, but she was beautiful.

"Are you feeling better now?" he wondered aloud. Was he doing this right? He hadn't screwed up again, had he?

"A little," she said quietly, burrowing closer. Just because she wasn't coming apart at the seams any longer didn't mean she wanted him to leave. She had waited so long for him to be good for them, someone that they could trust and rely on. He was finally stepping into the role she was willing to give him after all this time.

"Next time you two decide to take a trip to town, take one of the adults with you," he demanded, though his voice was still quiet and soft. He had been so frightened; they had just been _gone_. No warning, no preparation. Just vanished.

She laughed into his shoulder, shaking her head. "Alright. Promise."

And that was more than he had been expecting. It was all alright. Sarah had been right after all.

Magda was not happy.

Her children had been taken by some mutant-hating scientist. Her babies had been tortured; cut up and sliced and knocked unconscious. And who had gone and gotten them out?

Erik Lehnsherr, also known as Magnus Maximoff, better known as Magneto.

Her fucking _ex-husband_ , who she had never wanted to see ever again.

The drive to Xavier's school had been full of worry, anger, fear, hatred, and anxiety. What had Magnus done? Did he know the twins were his? It wasn't a hard connection to make, and Magnus had always been quick. If he knew, what had he told the children? And God, but _Sarah_ was with him, too. That thought had her breaking the speed limit, trying to reach New York as quickly as she could.

When she pulled up in front of the giant mansion, she couldn't even pause to be impressed by the size and wealth of the place. She was at the front door in seconds, banging on the door and shouting to be let in.

Sarah answered the door, smiling timidly up at her mother. Magda didn't waste a moment, scooping Sarah up into her arms and clinging tight. "Are you alright? What happened? Are your brother and sister okay? Where are they? We need to go!"

Sarah sat calmly in her mother's arms, waiting for her to stop panicking, before pointing towards the stairs. "They're upstairs. Charles put an extra bed for Wanda in Peter's room, so everyone's up there."

Magda nodded, squared her shoulders, and made her way upstairs. She could hear laughter coming down the hall, and God, but how long had it been since she had heard her children sound that carefree?

She stood in the doorway with Sarah, just taking in the scene. Magnus, _Erik_ , sat at a small table in front of the window, a handful of cards in front of him, an intensely concentrated look on his face. Wanda sat to his left, a wide grin on her face as she cradled one arm to her chest and used the other to hold her cards. Her red magic was swirling around her, used to place her cards down on the table. Peter was actually sitting still, frowning at his cards even though his eyes were shining with mirth. Charles, the man in the wheelchair was sitting at the last open space, watching the others laugh and smile and frown through the game. Another man hovered by the window, flipping through a magazine.

Sarah squirmed to be set down and Magda released her, but she couldn't bring herself to step foot through the doorway. They all looked so happy; they didn't need her coming in and making a scene, screaming and crying and breaking down, when they seemed fine without her. She was stepping away, fading into the background, the shadows. If she left now, the only one that would know was Sarah, and Sarah was a master at keeping secrets. She felt terrible, but she knew that Sarah had kept far more secrets for her than was strictly healthy.

She felt heavy as she made her way slowly down the steps. She had almost wished that Sarah had come after her, dragged her back into the room. But no one stopped her at the foot of the stairs, no one stopped her at the doorway, and no one stopped her as she crawled miserably into her car. She couldn't bring herself to turn the key, and instead found herself staring out the windshield.

And staring turned to sobbing turned to heaving. She couldn't breath and she couldn't think and she couldn't do a thing. They didn't need her, no one needed her, God but she shouldn't have even driven out here just to have this realization.

Even as she was wiping away her tears, she tried to reach out and fumble with her keys, turn the car on and run away. But her keys wouldn't go in the slot. She couldn't even move them, and suddenly they were flying out of her hand, floating in midair. With wide eyes, she realized just what that meant, and turned to look around. And there he stood by the front door, a painfully contrite look on his face. Even as she stared, red faced and shaking, he took a few cautious steps towards her, until he was at her door and opening it.

He stared down at her, watching her wipe her eyes. Finally, he knelt down and took her hands in his, studying them in detail, waiting for her to calm down. "Magda," he said quietly, and suddenly she was twenty years old again, staring into those same eyes that she had fallen in love with all those years ago.

"Magnus," she returned shakily, squeezing his hands in her own. "Or are you Erik, now? Magneto?" She bit her lip, wondering if she said the wrong words if he would hurt her. Would he dare, with the children so close?

"I can be whoever you wish. If you want Magnus, I can be Magnus. If you prefer Erik, I can be him, too. I refuse to be Magneto here. I've promised the children." And he made it sound so simple, so easy. As if there weren't seventeen years and two children between them.

"Magnus was always sweet to me," she admitted, wincing at herself. God, she sounded like some love-struck teenager. "I've never met Erik. Let's stick with what we know." He nodded, accepting her logic, and then tugged her out of the car, slamming the door behind her.

"Sarah got worried, told me to come and get you. Did you realize that she's a mutant, as well?" he asked conversationally, guiding her back into the house. Magda was shocked; she had realized when Wanda and Peter had come into their powers, but Sarah had them too, and she hadn't been around to keep her calm?

"No. Is she alright?" Magda asked, worried. What if it was something that hurt her?

"She's fine," Magnus reassured her, taking her hand to lead her back upstairs. "She can touch someone and glean memories from them. She used my connection to the twins in order to find where they had been taken. I'm sure that's not the extent of it, but just the beginning. She's a very brilliant little girl," he praised, smiling down at her like he used to, before Anya died. Before their life had disintegrated before their eyes.

"Alright. That's good. Good." She let out a breath, shaking as she tried to keep herself together. "Are the twins alright?"

"Wanda's arm is injured, but we have a doctor here, and he's taken a look at her. She'll be fine in a few months. Peter was cut a bit and beaten, but he's recovering, as well. I've been trying to keep them entertained and laughing."

Magda smiled as they stopped outside the door to the bedroom. His hand was still wrapped around her own, and Magda bit her lip, unsure of what to do. Magnus leaned in, whispering in her ear, and she felt her blood heat up just like it used to.

"They love you. You're alright, they're alright. It's all fine. We're going to get past this." She nodded, taking a deep breath, and then pushed the door open. Magnus didn't let her hand go, followed her into the room and waited for the children to look up from their discussion.

When Wanda saw her mother, she rocketed from her seat and latched on tight, wrapping her arms around her mother and sobbing into her neck. "Mama, Mama!" she cried, flopping her useless arm against her mother's shoulders.

"Shh, baby. It's alright." She turned to look at Peter, and he was hovering uncertainly behind Wanda, hesitant and frightened. She realized suddenly that he might still think she was angry over his mistake at the Pentagon. Without a word, she lifted her free arm and found him barreling into her at speed, hiding his tear streaked face in her neck. Sarah walked over calmly, a smile on her face as she wrapped herself around her family. Erik stood off to the side, watching in awe and sadness as she comforted her children.

He could have been watching this for years, but she had left, and he had missed _everything_.

He stomped down on the anger and frustration immediately. He couldn't take it out on the kids, he couldn't even really take it out on Magda. He knew he had been unhinged back then, that he had been frightening in his anger and despair. He didn't blame her for running away, for keeping the twins a secret from him. How could he, when he had done so many terrible things in his life? He knew the kind of person he had been, had become, was now. He wouldn't want children around him either, if it could be helped.

He watched as Magda cried into Wanda's hair, fisted her hand into Peter's shirt to keep him in place, and squeezed Sarah to her stomach. He wasn't a part of this; he never would be.

But then the children turned to look at him, nearly as one, and beckoned him closer with their eyes, their hands, their mouths. He stepped forward awkwardly, not quite sure he knew how to do this, how to be a family, a father.

"Get your ass over here, Magnus," Magda demanded, rolling her eyes at his hesitancy. He had never been this timid in her memory; was it something he had only just acquired?

He nodded, slipping in beside Magda and slipping seamlessly into the family hug. Sarah beamed from her spot in the middle, teeth showing and eyes sparkling.

"I told you so!" she crowed excitedly. "Everything's okay now! I knew it! I said so!" She wiggled happily in the midst of her family. Even if Erik wasn't her biological father, he was her siblings' dad, and he had been good for them. For all of them. He had gone to _Canada_ to save them. If that didn't scream love, she didn't know what did. He wanted to take care of Wanda and Peter. He wanted to be a dad. Maybe, if he stuck around, he could take care of her too. It was wishful thinking, she knew, but it was something that kept her going sometimes.

Eventually, they did break apart, Magda dragging Wanda and Peter to one side of the room for a tongue lashing. Sarah and Erik stayed on the other side of the room, silent and trading commiserating looks with each other.

It was during this lull that Charles rolled by the room. He caught Erik's eyes and motioned for him to follow him. Curious, Erik left Sarah and followed after the man. They settled in Wanda's room.

"What's this about, Charles?" he asked. He was feeling pretty good about himself, if he was being honest. Magda hadn't tried to decapitate him, the twins were mostly okay with him, and Sarah seemed to think that the sun shone out of his ass. At this point, he wasn't sure Charles could give him any news that would ruin this mood.

Charles sighed, long and heavy and exhausted, and that worried Erik. Charles always tried to come across as calm and collected; this news must really be bad.

"Erik, do you have any other children floating around that you know of? Or any blood relatives at all?" That was a strange question, but Erik answered it all the same; he shook his head. All of his family had died in the camps. He didn't have any other children either, unless he had gotten someone pregnant that had gone that same way as Magda had-hiding it from him.

"While I was looking for the twins, I was using you as a focus point. I used your essence, and tried to find the children through you, because some of your essence is a part of them. I didn't find the twins, but I found a girl in California that has the same sort of mixture of your essence with someone else's, that would mean that she's either a half-sister, or your daughter. Since your parents are dead, it can't be a sister. So, daughter."

And when he explained it like that, it seemed simple. But it was anything but. He had _another_ child? How many were just hanging about?!

"Another daughter? A girl?" he stuttered, falling into the chair he had pulled up beside Wanda's bed. He rubbed his face, refusing to believe that this was his life. First the twins, then Sarah, and now another one? He was quickly being outnumbered.

"What's her name?" Perhaps if he had a last name, it would jog his memory. The moment the name "Lorna Dane" left Charles' mouth, Erik was flinching. Dane, he remembered a Dane. What was her name, though? And then it hits him like a truck; Suzanna. Suzanna Dane. He had been travelling Europe on his Nazi-killing tirade, and she had given him a place to stay. He had lingered long after he had killed the man, when he should have been moving on. But she had been like a star in the night sky; she was a bright spot in his dark life. But then she had come home one day, frazzled and angry, and told him to leave and never come back. He had left confused and hurt, but he had eventually forgotten about her. Until today, of course. Because she had been pregnant when he had left, and she hadn't told him. Was he really such a terrible person that the women he loved could never love him back? It hurt something deep in his chest; he could feel something shattering inside of him, as his face fell in despair.

"Suzanna Dane. The girl must be what, thirteen? Fourteen? By now." He paused, mulling the thought over, before he asked tentatively, "California, you said?" Charles nodded, staring at Erik with that calm, understanding look that he had perfected over the years.

"She's not in… the _best_ _situation_ ," Charles said delicately, and that had Erik's attention. What did that mean? Was she being abused? Was she doing drugs? Was she alone?

"Her mother is married to a man that, well let's just say that he's very physical. He hurts them." Charles looked very intense right then, staring deep into Erik's eyes. "I need to know, Erik. Are you willing to take her in? You technically have the right, and she needs someone to save her. It's _not_ good."

Erik found himself nodding mechanically. How could he _not_ , when Charles put it like that. He had another daughter, and she was being hurt. Of course he was going to go and get her.

Lorna Dane glared through her window. Her step-father was downstairs, sitting in front of the television with a beer in his hand and another twelve pack on ice in the fridge waiting for him. Her mother was hovering in the kitchen, flitting from the stove to the fridge to the back door to the window looking in to the living room, fearfully glancing toward her husband every few minutes.

Lorna was tired. She just wanted this to be done. She was so done. Finished. As she stared at her reflection in the window, she sighed. Her hair was tugged into her fingers, and Lorna let her eyes flutter closed. She was shaking and frightened and angry and stressed and so very, very done.

Slowly, ever so slowly, her hair changed. It was no longer brown, like her mothers. Her eyelids fluttered open when she felt something wrong, something different happening. Something was happening. With wide eyes, she watched the brown bleed from her hair to be replaced by a vibrant green.

What. The. Hell.

She tugged at it, fussed with it, and suddenly her breath caught in her throat.

She was a mutant. That was the only explanation. And she was so dead. If her step-father saw this, she was going to be dead in minutes. If her mother saw, she might just kick her out.

Biting her lip, Lorna looked over her shoulder. Did she dare? She sighed; anywhere had to be better than here, right? Even the street?

Mind made up, Lorna gathered some clothes and shoved them into a bag. She snuck into the kitchen and took all of the money in her mother's purse, then turned to the cupboards and shoved as much food as she could into the bag.

With it slung over her shoulder, Lorna took one last fortifying breath and pushed the door open. She knew this neighborhood. She shouldn't stay near the house, though. If someone found her that knew her, they would just send her straight back. No, she needed something new, different. And she needed it _right_ _now_.

She could do this.

She just had to be brave.

And she was. She was so brave.

But she was also only fourteen years old.

She shook that out of her head. She was always being told she looked older than she was, that she was so mature. Well, okay then. She was going to use that to her advantage. Counting out the money she had, she headed toward the bus station. She could do this. She would be fine. Everything was fine.

Everything was just _dandy_.


End file.
